Compromised (updated version)
by Sarah36396
Summary: Loki left Natasha Romanoff feeling broken. He had compromised her and she sees no way to end the pain that he has inflicted upon her, so she runs away from everything, everyone. How can she heal on her own? Hawkeye/Black Widow Clintasha Clint/Natasha Barton/Romanoff Warning: lemon,smut,sex in chapter 3. Completed.
1. Six Months

**Hey guys! I feel like it has been years since I updated! Back in June I graduated high school, then I was busy training/showing a gelding, as well as training and showing my own horse (we made huge improvements this year!). Right after we sold him and I turned 19 I moved out to a trainers place to work and ride under him, so I have no had time to do any writing until recently! To kick off my return I decided to go back and make a few changes to this story. I hope you enjoy it and please drop a review! More content coming soon!**

Natasha sat outside on the balcony, a bottle of recently opened vodka keeping her company. She stared at the clear liquid in her glass, trying to gain control of her thoughts that were running wild, bringing up memories that were best left forgotten. She took a small drink before sighing as she got up and walked over to the railing. It had been six months since the battle in New York. Six months since she everything she had come to know and live her life by had been compromised. Six months since her world have been flipped upside down.

Natasha had ran as soon as she had gotten the chance; she hadn't been willing to face reality at the time. For the last several months she had been bouncing around cities all across the globe, trying to escape from the looming past. She would stay in a hotel for a few days before moving on when the memories became to much. But her problems couldn't be ran from, she could not escape her own mind.

Ever since the battle her inner being had been in complete turmoil. She didn't know what to think anymore, didn't know what to believe. All she knew was that she had nearly lost the most important thing in her life and that is what bugged her. Natasha didn't want to care, didn't want to face that fact that she had let someone in, but she had.

With a frown she looked out across the small Italian city, despising the cheery atmosphere. Families were in the nearby park, kites flying high above the trees, children squealing and chasing each other. Wives roamed in the small market to her left, browsing the various stalls that held fruits and vegetables. Below her several french men stood laughing loudly and talking in drunken slurs, which irritated her more. She considered throwing her glass at them, but there was no point in getting charged with assault. Instead she dumped the liquid over the rail before tossing the glass onto the balcony. It landed with a crack as she fell back into the wooden whicker chair with a sigh, the sound of angry french cursing drifting up to her ears. She smirked slightly but then it vanished as she dropped her head to her hands, closing her eyes.

"You know, the price of Vodka has gonup lately. That probably wasn't a good idea." The voice camd from behind her.

Any other day Natasha would have sprung out of the chair, pulled her gun, and faced the person that had snuck up on her. But today she just shrugged, not even bothering to look over her shoulder; She knew who the voice belonged too. And even if it had not been him she would have kept sitting there, pretending the person didn't exist. She was not in the mood to try to deal with anything else except her wild thoughts.

The person walked across the balcony and stood in front of her, crossng his arms and waiting for her to speak. Instead she stared at the man's shoes before slowly working her way up. The thick combat boots were black, as expected. Next came a pair of dark wash jeans, then a purple t-shirt. Her eyes finally found his face, which held a frown. She held his gaze a moment before looking away, unable to stand his stare.

"Why are you here, Clint?" Natasha asked, refusing to look at him.

Clint just shrugged, copying her previous movement. She glowered at him, getting up and pushing him aside as she stalked inside. Natasha considered locking him outside on the balcony but decided to slam the door in his face instead. He opened it without a word, an amused chuckle escaping his lips. Clint stared at her a moment before crossing the room to stand in front of her once more. She crossed her arms, rising her chin a bit in defiance as she continued to ignore him.

"How did you know where to find me?" Natasha finally asked.

"I've been keeping tabs on you."

"Oh, great. So now you are S.H.I.E.L.D's watchdog huh?" She snapped irritability

"I am no one's watchdog. S.H.I.E.L.D has no idea where you are. Like I said, _I _have been keeping tabs on you."

The way he said it sent shivers down her spine and she felt something foreign stir inside herself. Natasha swallowed before sitting down on the couch, watching his every move as he shifted his weight,picking at the edge of his nail. "Why have you been keeping tabs on me?" She asked as calmy as she could.

"Had to make sure you were staying out of trouble."

"I do not get into trouble."

He snorted at that comment, sitting down across from her. "Yeah,right," He replied simply before staring at her once more, his eyes on her face. Natasha tried to ignore him and pretend he wasn't there, but he was getting to her with every passing second.

"What do you want Clint?" She finally asked while frowning, breaking the silence.

"Answers."

"What kind of answers?"

"Why did you run?" Clint held her eyes, noting the fact that she flinched at the question.

"Why does it matter?" She asked nervously, wishing she had that bottle of Vodka about now.

"Because."

"Because why?" Natasha continued to frown. "It is my problem, not yours."

"Not my problem?" Clint asked in disbelief before slamming his fist down on the table,causing the glass to rattle. She jumped, licking her lips nervously. Natasha knew he was pissed and she was the reason for his rage. He would never hit her, no matter how mad he got, but that didn't stop him from taking his anger out of the coffee table. "It is my problem, Natasha. I was compromised too. I lost myself when Loki took over, I became a completely different person. And as soon as I gained control over myself again, I was thrust into battle before I even had time to think about things. The entire time my mind was on the people that had died because of me, the people I had killed. The guilt was eating me alive. What kept me going was the fact that we would talk when all this was over. I knew I would be able to talk to you, that'd you be there and you would understand. But as soon as the smoke cleared you were gone without a word. So for the last six months I have had to just deal with it, wondering if I did something wrong, wondering if I had hurt you somehow. So yeah, you see, it is my problem!" Clint finished his rant, crossing his arms and glaring into her eyes.

Natasha just sat there and let his harsh words sink in. She had been wrong to leave him; after the hard missions they had always there for each other. But she had left him when he needed her most. She should have been there to make him stop beating himself up over something he couldn't control but instead she had been hoping across the globe, trying to run away from her own feelings

. Natasha racked her brain but she could not find enough words to make everything right. She could not tell him the truth, why she had really ran. How was she supposed to tell him that she felt like a human for the first time since they had met? That she felt weak and exposed? That she had nearly died inside when she heard he was compromised. She didn't like the flood of emotions that were overcoming her- Natasha wished that she could just lock them away somewhere and ignore them. But she had already tried that and it was no use. There were three simple words to explain things, but she just couldn't force them out of her mouth. So instead she stared at the floor, trying to hide from his gaze.

"I see...Glad to know where I stand, _partner_." Clint practically spat the last words before pushing off the couch, heading towards the door

His words were like ice and it felt like someone had punched her in the heart as Clint slammed the door behind him. Natasha bit her lip, trying to keep the tears back, but one managed to slide down her cheek.

Ever since her conversation with Loki she had felt like her insides had been twisted around. Her very brain was at war with itself, trying to ignore the new found emotions. Everyone looked at her as the strong, unphasible pillar, but that wasn't who she was anymore. She was changing.

With a sob she curled up in a ball, tired of trying to fight herself. She closed her eyes as the tears rolled down her cheeks, waiting for sleep to claim her. But no amount of Vodka or sleep could fix this. She was going to have to do the inevitable and face Clint.

With a sigh she finally slipped into a fitful sleep, her tears wetting her pillow. Natasha promised herself that as soon as she woke up she would make things right. She had too. Otherwise she would be torn apart from the inside out. Loki would end up winning, even if he wasn't around to see it. And she wasn't about to let that happen. She wasn't going to lose Clint again


	2. Run

Clint wasn't sure how long he had been running. As soon as he had slammed Natasha's door a bomb had went off inside of him. The flood of emotions was too much for him to handle. He had hit the pavement running blind with no idea where he was going. He had ran straight past his own hotel and into the park, ignoring the children as they cried out greetings. Thanks to his training he was in perfect physical condition, so he could run as long as he wanted. Clint knew he couldn't even begin to outrun his problems, but he could sure as hell try.

As he completed his fifth lap around the park track his breath began to come in short rapid burst, his chest heaving. He knew he was pushing himself, but he didn't care at this point. All he could think about was Natasha. How could she turn her back on him like that? He knew they had been put in an difficult position, but it wasn't the first time something had come up between them.

At the end of the day she had always stuck around to make sure he was ok and he had done the same for her. Clint hated himself for coming to rely on the simple questions and comfort they provided for each other. That thought made his chest hurt a little more as he slowed to a walk, trying to put a filter on his thoughts. Why was he always thinking about her?

Clint wasn't sure what he had been thinking when he came to Italy in the first place. He should have known she had a reason for distancing herself from him. Had he seriously been stupid enough to fall for her? He was an assassin, he was supposed to keep his feelings pushed away, hidden beneath a thick layer; they weren't supposed to effect his work. But she had breached his mental defenses and from her reaction earlier, he knew he had done the same to her. Once more they had found a way to compromise each other without meaning to.

With a sigh Clint looked up and realized he had walked himself to his hotel. He entered the lobby and kept his eyes down as he headed straight for the elevator, ignoring the stares. He could only imagine what he looked like since he was drenched in sweat. His sweaty hair was plastered to his head, but he honestly didn't care. He was a mess and that was becoming a common thing. The elevator doors opened when he arrived at the top floor and he trudged down the hall to his room. He swiped the card and pushed the door open, letting himself inside.

Any other time he would have appreciated his hotel room. It was like his own personal apartment and reminded him of home. He normally was a fairly tidy person but today he kicked his shoes off at the door, not even bothering to put them up. He headed towards the bathroom, stripping as he went. His shirt landed on the arm of the couch, his socks thrown on the bedroom floor. His jeans and boxers hit the bathroom floor as he turned the cold water knob as far as it would go. Clint waited a moment before bracing himself and stepping into the ice cold water.

The temperature shocked his nerves and his stomach muscles clamped up. Goosebumps danced across his skin and he grounded his teeth, waiting to regain control of his paralyzed muscles. When he finally began to relax he turned on the hot water, sighing as the temperature evened out into a warm stream. He just stood there letting the water run down his neck and face, his palms planted on the wall, as he watched the water circle towards the drain.

Clint wished that the water would do more than wash away dirt and sweat. He wished it could sweep all of his problems away, that it could wash them down the drain. Maybe he could go down the drain witht them and stop caring. He shook his head at that thought before grabbing a bar of soap and scrubbing at his neck and hair. Maybe, just maybe, he could sleep without dreaming for once. Maybe he could forget his problems for a while and escape into oblivion, but he doubted that would happen. Lately his dreams were full of long dead faces and and Natasha.

Clint stayed under the steam of water until every last drop ran cold, feeling like needle pricks on his arms and back. He turned the water off and grabbed a towel, wrapping a it around his waist. He dragged a smaller one through his hair before tossing it aside and turning to look into the mirror. Clint frowned at his reflection, realizing he still looked like hell. His wet hair stood up hectically, like someone had shocked him senseless. His eyes were starting to become blood shot and the veins in his neck were standing out. How did he miss the fact that he was so stressed?

With another sigh he went to his bedroom, pulling on a pair of boxers before throwing himself across the bed, tossing the towel into a corner. He would pick it up later, but now wasn't the time. Right now he wanted to wallow in self pity, give into the less desirable side of himself. Everyone deserved to sulk every now and then, to feel like the whole world was against them,right? Clint knew Natasha would say no but he forced that thought away as he closed his eyes, his breathing evening out as he slowly sunk into oblivion.

. . . . . .

Clint groaned as he began to regain control of his brain and muscles. He felt as if a truck had parked on top of his body after running over him. He grunted as he tried to move his legs, the sore muscels burning. After a minute he finally peeled his eyes open as he sat up with a yawn and forced himself to stretch. He relaxed for a brief moment before going into full alert mode, his eyes snapping towards the door. Something wasn't right.

Clint rolled out of bed, realizing all his clothes were picked up, the towel no longer in the corner where he had thrown it. He didn't order a room cleaning until tomorrow, and they knew better than to enter his room unauthorized. With a frown he grabbed his pistol from under the bed, snatching a pair of jeans as he went. Clint yanked them on and buttoned them before heading for the door; there was no point for him to have a shoot out in his boxers. He slipped on a shirt and slowly opened the door. As he entered the living room he stiffened and debated on slamming the door and locking himself in his room

"What are you doing here?" Clint asked coldly.

"Why does this seem familiar?" Natasha asked sarcastically as she stood up from the couch, crossing her arms.

"What are you doing here?" He repeated, laying the gun down on the table.

"I...I'm not really sure," she admitted with a sigh. "I guess because we need to talk."

"Oh, really? It's not like I have tried that or anything."

"Clint." she frowned, her eyes narrowing. "I need to talk."

"I needed to talk too. I've needed to talk for the last six months." Clint snapped but he knew he would listen to her. If there was any chance he could make things right between them he would sit there and listen to her for days. They were not just partners, they were friends. And the last thing he wanted to do was lose his best friend, even if she had hurt him.

"I know and I am sorry." Natasha took a deep breath. She promised herself she wasn't going to cry while doing this. She was going to plow through her little speech and take his rejection like it was no big deal and then she could go on with her life. Or at least that is what she kept telling herself. "You asked why I ran..."

"Yeah," Clint folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the counter.

"I ran because I was scared-"

"Scared of what?"

"I am getting to that." She glared. "I was scared because I felt...human. You know, everyone thought that those tears were a ruse, Clint. That I manipulated Loki into telling me what we needed. But that was a mistake. The tears were real; Loki actually got to me. For the first time in years I felt like someone had looked right into my brain and figured me out. It scared me more than it should have. For the first time since I was young I felt my emotional defenses shatter. I was vulnerable. I knew I had to get away, had to hide, until I could try to figure things out. I thought maybe a week or two would do but I am still fighting my own brain. I don't know what to do anymore. Then on top of that I realized how much I hurt you, how I left you feeling the same way I do now, and it finally made me crack. I gave up on trying to bury everything- maybe it is ok to feel like this. I don't know. Maybe it will help me heal in the long run. But my point is that I am sorry Clint. I never meant to hurt you. I was already confused and vulnerable, but then I realized something else after we got you back." Natasha closed her eyes for a brief moment. "It really threw me off, and that's when I knew for sure I had to run. I mean...Up there on that catwalk, when there was the possibility I might have had to kill you, I realized you weren't just a friend or a partner anymore. You mean a lot more than that to me." She finished in a quiet voice,looking down. Natasha wasn't ready to voice her exact thoughts, not yet, but she knew he would understand. Or at least she hoped that he would.

Clint stared at her for what seemed like hours, processing everything she had said, and replayed her confession over and over again in his head. He hadn't thought about what she might have been feeling after everything that had happened. They were both left raw and exposed by Loki. Instead of being there for one another they had each tried to cast the blame on the other person instead of facing the problem. Their problem.

How long had they been dancing around one anothers feelings, trying to avoid the obvious? How had he failed to see that she cared about him the way he cared for her? Were they really that blind to each other? Clint slowly shook his head before stepping forward and opening his arms. To his surprise she didn't hesitate. Instead she threw herself into his arms, clinging tightly to him, her face buried against his chest.

"I am so sorry Clint." Natasha whispered, her voice rough. He frowned as he felt something wet on his shirt and when he tilted her chin up be was surprised to see tears. He gently lifted his hand and used a calloused thumb to wipe away the tears.

"I'm sorry too. But don't cry on me now." Clint tried to keep his tone light as he tucked a stand of hair behind her ear. "I'd rather you punch me than cry on me." He said in a serious tone. It made her smile slightly as she laid her head back against his chest. He pressed his lips against her red curls, kissing the top of her head. "Sorry I yelled at you."

She just shrugged before looking up to meet his blue eyes, feeling better than she had all in a long time. Clint returned her gaze and they stared at each other for what seemed like hours. Clint finally dipped his head and Natasha met him half way, her arms wrapping around his neck. He kissed her gently, taking in her taste, the sensation of her mouth on his.

"I was such a fool." He murmured as they pulled apart.

"You weren't the only one." She pulled him into another kiss, her hands moving into his hair.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time." Clint said softly, his hands on her waist.

"I've known what I wanted..but I was scared that I would end up hurt. It was stupid. I know you wouldn't hurt me." She shook her head. "I am sorry."

"Don't be, Nat. I understand."

"I've wasted time." She muttered, pressing him backwards towards his room. "So much time."

"Nat?" It was a question.

"All this time I could have had what I wanted, what we wanted. But we screwed around instead." She shook her head. "We have time to make up for." She pulled him into another kiss, her tongue slipping into his mouth. Clint's heart leaped into over drive as she continued to herd him towards his room, her hands working through his hair. Clint felt like he was in a dream and he was afraid that he would wake up at any minute, that she'd be gone again.

Natasha kicked the door shut once they made it to his room and kissed him with a new zest, her body pressed against his. Clint was sure it was a dream until she pulled away and looked him in the eye, a look he had never seen before on her face.

"Clint?"

"Yes?"

"I need you."


	3. Compromised

I need you." The words seemed to echo over and over again in Clint's mind as Natasha kissed him. Her hands were gripping his hair, her tongue tangling with his. They had known each other for years, gone on countless missions together, spent thousands of years together, but never before had Clint heard such raw truth or need in her voice. Her eyes were driving him wild and it seemed like the world was stuck in fast forward as he tried to process her words. He couldn't control his body, couldn't make himself act on her need. He felt slow and dumb, like a cow stuck in mud.

"Clint?" Natasha frowned as he continued to stand there dumbfounded. She began to pull away, a torn look on her face. "I-I am sorry." Her voice was small and she took a step back.

"Wait." Clint's control seemed to snap back and he reached out to grab her arm.

"You don't-" Clint cut her off with a kiss and used his body to push her against the wall. His hands gripped her waist and his mouth dropped to her neck as he kissed her collarbone. Natasha titled her head back to give him better access as he planted kisses along her throat, then her jaw. His hands now roamed across her back, their roughness making goosebumps rise along their path. She bit back a moan and closed her eyes, pressing against him. "Clint, please. More."

The statement made Clint freeze in surprise and Natasha took control, her mouth dominating his. She ground against him before hooking one leg around his waist, than the other. Clint groaned into her mouth as he pinned her against the wall once more, trapping her in the air.

"Do you know how many times I've thought about this? How many times I've thought about hearing you say you need me?" He growled before grazing his teeth across her tongue. Natadha shivered, her hands clenching in his hair.

"You aren't the only one." She muttered as she planted kisses along his jaw line. She worked her way up to his ear and bit the lobe forcefully, a wicked glint in her eyes. Clint moaned lustfuly and deep, a wild look in his eyes. "Bed. Now". She managed.

Clint obliged and walked them backwards until he hit the bed. He turned them around and gently laid her on the bed, his calloused hands slipping under her shirt. His hands seemed to light fires wherever they touched and she felt the heat growing in her belly. She closed her eyes as she got lost in his touch, her breathing becoming more labored with every passing second. Men had touched her before, had tried to turn her on, but nothing had ever come close to the sensation that was Clint.

Despite what everyone else thought, she didn't sleep around. Sure, there had been men when she was younger and foolish, but it had been years. Her targets never had the opportunity- they were dead before they had the chance. Other men tried, but no one ever turned her on enough for her to give them a moments thought. Clint was often in her dreams, despite her efforts to keep him off of her mind. Years of sexual tension between them had been left unaddressed and now it was coming out all at once. She could practically feel the need seeping from her body.

Clints hands continued to slide up her back until they reached her bra, prompting her into action. She grabbed his arms and flipped them over before straddling his lower half, a wicked grin on her face. "My turn to explore."

"That was sneaky." Clint chuckled. His voice was raw and husky, a mixture that sent arousal shooting through her body.

"You do know who you are talking to, don't you?" She arched an eyebrow and gave him a sweet smile as she ground against him. She slowly stretched upwards, pulling his shirt off as she did so. With a flick of her wrist she sent it flying across the room, her eyes dropping to his bare torso.

Natasha's eyes took in the various scars that were spotted across his stomach and chest, then the light splay of hair that ran across his chest and belly, then downwards. She blushed slightly as she let her imagination run a bit wild and Clint smirked. She ignored him and continued to access his body. They had seen each other naked many times, but she had never had a chance to explore like this. She ran her hands across his abs, the hair tickling her hands.

Clint's eyes were closed as he took in her touch, her hands started palming him through his jeans, driving him wild. Her fingers moved to his buttons and he shook his head, flipping them back over. Natasha gave him a curious look and he grinned. "Nah ah, . It is my turn now."

He gently pulled her shirt off and tossed it aside, his eyes taking in every detail. He ran his thumb across the scar just below her ribs and their eyes met as the both thought back to a time when they had almost gotten together. Clint held Natasha's gaze as he slid his hands around to her back and unclaspped her bra. His eyes became hungry as he took in her chest and she smirked

"I am waiting."

"And I'll keep you waiting even longer if you don't behave yourself." He chided as he reached up to gently palm her breast. Natasha moaned loudy, surprising Clint, and practically pushed herself upwards into his hands. He smirked, kneading a bit harder. "You like that huh?"

"(Russian)Just wait until it is my turn. Then we will see who likes what." The look she gave him made him freeze. She took the opportunity to switch their positions again, a coy smile on her face as she nimbly unbuttoned his jeans. He worked them off with his legs as Natasha's hips wrecked havoc on his body and he was unable to hold back a throaty moan. "Now, see, isn't this better?"

"I s'posse." He grunted as she reached down and grabbed him, causing him to tense up.

"Relaxe." Natasha murmured, leaning forward to plant a kiss on his chest. Her lips moved to his left nipple and she nipped at it gently as Clint jerked towards her hands, another moan escaping his lips.

"Nat. Not fair." He managed to gasp.

"All is fair in love and war."

"I'm just trying to let you know that _you _aren't going to be having any fun if you keep that up." He closed his eyes.

"Fine." Natasha allowed him to crawl on top of her. "I have high expectations for you, just so you know." She flashed him a wicked grin.

"Of course you do." He chuckled softly as he slipped her pants off. Her breath hitched as his hand intentionally brushed against her underwear, a smirk on his face. "So moist. I am pretty good, huh?"

"Just shut up." She arched towards him and tried to catch his mouth in a kiss, but he turned and avoided her.

"Mmm, playing mean again. Am I going to have to spank you?" He hooked a finger through the band of her lacy black underwear and tugged them down, a shit eatting grin on his face. "Give up some control Nat, let me take care of you." One hand pinned her arms above her head and his mouth dropped to her chest, nipping and kissing as he moved about. His other hand slid between them and Natasha sucked in a gulp of air as he touched her for the first time. His rough fingers seemed surprisingly soft to her sensative skin and she marveled at the new sensation. Clint reached up to kiss her and she moaned into his mouth, her fingers digging into his forearm.

"(Russian)Please. More." She hald whimpered half whispered as she arched her body into his hands. Clint complied, his fingers dancing around as he made her squirm. She continued to whimper and moan into his mouth, and Clint felt his own arousal growing. This was every fantasy he ever imagined- he had the girl he wanted, and he had her just where he wanted her.

"Clint, I am going to-"

"No." Clint growled as he pulled her into another kiss. His fingers pulled away and she cried out as she tried to find a release.

"Please." Natasha panted. Her fingers clawed at his arm, trying to get her arms loose.

"Not yet." Clint murmured as he pressed a kiss to her neck. He skimmed her nose along her jaw, his eyes closed as he drank in the feel of her skin. He had been with people before, when he was young and wild, but never had he felt such a connection, such a need, towards another person. The only explanation was love. He loved this woman, despite everything that told him he shouldn't. They were fire and gasoline, a combustible mixture that was just waiting to explode.

"What's wrong?" Natasha asked with a frown. Clint had stopped everything and was staring at her. He shook his head and leaned down to give her a tender kiss that had nothing to do with the sex or passion that was happening before. It was a kiss that let her know just what was on his mind, a kiss that conveyed everything he left unsaid. Natasha's insides seemed to melt and she leaned into his embrace, craving the feeling that he was projecting.

She knew she should push him away now, to stop things before they went to far. But she was done trying to fight her feelings for this man. She knew what she wanted, knew what her heart wanted. She was tired of fighting it.

"(Russian)I love you." It was her turn to give him a tender kiss. "I love you." She repeated in a whisper, hiding her face in his shoulder.

"And I you." His thumb brushed along her jaw.

"I still need you." Her fingers playing with the hair on his nape. "And I don't just mean right now. I mean every day. Don't leave me again. Please. I...I fight with the demons of my past everyday. I can beat them most of the time...but there are going to be days where they win. Days when I shut down, shut you out. Days where I try to run away. But don't let me, Clint. Just hold onto me until I can beat them. Don't let me get away. Please." She finally looked up at him, her eyes sad and yearning.

"I'll be here. I promise." Clint tucked a strand of her behind her ear. He gave her a tender kiss, wonderinf whether or not it was wise to continue. "Look, Nat, if you don't want-"

"No more talking." She captured his mouth with hers and Clint rolled them over so that she was resting on top of him. She stretched out as Clint's hands folded around her hips, guiding her body towards his. Natasha buried her face into his shoulder again and whimpered as he slid into her, his own breath catching as her warmth engulfed him.

"God, Nat." He moaned into her hair. "So tight. So good."

"Or maybe you are just well endowed." She half moaned half whimpered as her body tried to adjust to his size. She had fantasized about her partner before, but never had she imagined anything like this.

"I thought we already knew that." Clint teased, his hands playing with her curls.

"Smart ass."

"I don't know about my ass, but your ass is-" Natasha cut him off by twisting her hips into his, a needy look on her face. Clint didn't hesitate to return any action and he thrust against her with a moan. She threw her head back and started speaking in Russian as Clint nipped along her collarbone. They continued to move together as one until they were both panting and slick with sweat. Natasha felt the pleasure mounting and her fingers dug into his shoulders.

"(Russian)My God. Clint!" Her screams were muffled by his shoulder and her body clenched around him as waves of pleasure overtook her. Her scream set Clint off and he went over the edge with one final thrust. Silence stretched between them, the only sounds an occasional pant or whimper.

After several minutes Clint finally gained control over his body once more. He gently tilted her chin up and pressed a soft kiss to her lips, a kiss that was tender and slow. "Do I pass?" He teased.

Natasha just nodded, too exhausted to speak. She readjusted herself and laid her head on his chest, her eye lids drooping. She intertwined her left hand with his, her right resting on his chest next to her head. She sighed sleepily and Clint smiled at the content look on her face. He reached across them and pulled a blanket over them before dropping his hand to her shoulders. Her rubbed in slow circles and watched as she fought to keep her eyes open.

"Go to sleep Nat." He murmured, pressing a kiss to her head. "I'll be here in the morning. Promise."

Natasha nodded against his chest and closed her eyes, her hand squeezing his. Six months ago Loki had compromised her and broken something inside of her, something that she had thought couldn't be fixed. But then Clint had came and found her again and compromised her in a different way, a way that left her feeling whole again. She was finally able to accept that she needed him, that they needed each other

Natasha Romanoff had lived through her biggest fear; she had been compromised by love. But she had lived through it, she had embraced it. Now there was no going back. But that was ok, because she trusted Clint. He had shown her that it was ok to be compromised, that it was ok to love. And love is just what she would do.


End file.
